


Murdok

by The_Magic_Tuba_Pixie



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
Genre: Lola - Freeform, Murdok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Tuba_Pixie/pseuds/The_Magic_Tuba_Pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Darknut, exiled from Ganon's ranks, tries to find his place in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> I have such a weakness for these top-heavy doberman dudes. And "The Wind Waker" means so much to me, it's no surprise I'd eventually churn something like this out.

Murdok shifted his weight along with the boat. Down below decks, he couldn’t see the ocean and all its vastness. He liked it there. It was dark. He could almost pretend he was alone in his exile until the little ones three spots over jangled its chains and squawked. Murdok was beyond getting annoyed as another raised its voice in protest. He had worked with all kinds of underlings in his years, watched them scramble over each other and snarl and howl over scraps he tossed them. If he kept his eyes closed, he could see the scenes all unfolding; they were all the same, after all. He could hear his captain laughing at them, look how stupid they were. Murdok laughed with his fellow guards, yet unaware of the reaches of their cruelty. He opened his slit eyes in the dim light and could make out shapes around him. Some shifted away from him, appropriately afraid. They were almost all smaller than him, and had he maintained his position, no one would have stepped forward if he smashed most of them into the wall with a deft swing of his issued sword. The only creatures that even came close were the Moblin guards, and he had carelessly hit more than a few of them in training and combat. He didn’t even remember what sound they made when they went sprawling. He only remembered the clanging his armor made and the whish of his sword as it sliced through the air with its vicious teeth.

He began to feel sick. Murdok closed his eyes again in an attempt to shut out the memories. The jangling to his left continued, the bickering persisted, and he felt the armor on his shoulders once more. He shifted them, trying to shake the feeling. He hadn’t worn the Darknut armor for a few days, but he never forgot how it felt. It was almost a relief whenever it was cut off behind his back; he could move faster without it, but the armor deflected blows like it was nothing, except for the loud gong it made as it reverberated around his body. In training, they taught him that the gong meant the armor was working. In reality, in the field, it actually meant that the enemy had made a mistake. The enemy had engaged a Darknut head-on. The gong was their funeral toll.

He shifted his shoulders again and something else shifted next to him.

“Are you alright?”

Surprised, Murdok glanced in the darkness downwards. Very few creatures dared speak to a Darknut, even when their armor wasn’t on. A pair of wide, calm eyes stared up at him.

“You keep doing that.” The Hylian girl at his waist mimicked his shoulder movements. “Are you okay?”

Murdok didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t just about to reveal his past and open up about his inner turmoil to this slave wretch. But she had spoken to him uninvited. She was brave. Or very stupid.

She jangled her chains, too, lifting them up to inspect them, then letting them drop again. “We’re both chained here together. Might as well get to know each other.”

The sheer gall the girl had stunned Murdok. Did she not know what he was? Was she never told about the Darknut and its proud heritage and training? No, of course not. Everyone who met one had died.

“You don’t really say much,” she observed.

At least she was astute.

“Name’s Lola. I got captured by some Bokos last time my ship sailed too close to one of their new cannon platforms.” She looked down. “They got our boat pretty good. I swam to the ladder at the platform base and was halfway up when I saw the cannon split my girl in two.”

Murdok turned his head forward again. She was foolish, taking on a Bokoblin platform from the sea. She left herself completely unguarded for the ladder climb up, it was no small wonder she was captured. The Bokoblins are no strategic masterminds, but when they find a bird’s nest on the ground, they don’t miss an opportunity.

She didn’t seem to want to share the rest of her tale. It was irrelevant; everyone knew how it ended. “What are you in here for?”

Murdok shifted his considerable weight again and made a low rumble in the back of his thick neck. He would have continued to say nothing had a bright light not speared its way into the dark slaves’ quarters. There were squawks of protest, but Murdok simply jerked his hand up to his eyes. The chains rattled and jerked, but he had no problem with the small resistance. It wasn’t until the Hylian next to him squashed into his side did he realize the other prisoners were tied to his shackles, as well. He mumbled a “sorry” to the best of his ability and let his hands fall again.

She didn’t respond because the person who had thrown the door open suddenly appeared before them. With a CLANG the metal was severed and Murdok was separated from the Hylian and all the other prisoners.

Confused, Murdok looked down at his shackles. Why was he freed? He was a dangerous criminal with ruthless training and too much power for one organism. Did they not know who he was? He looked further into the darkness as slaves rushed past him. However, due to the sudden blinding light, he had lost what little dim light vision he had and could not make out his liberator except for the occasional sparks as metal separated from metal. Hylians and Bokoblins and Ruto all alike rushed past him, unphased by his size and presence as they were freed.

Once the savior had freed everyone in the room, he made his way back to the door and towards Murdok, who hadn’t yet moved. “Wha’ssa matter, huh? You’re free. Go on, join the res’ of ‘em,” the man said as he passed.

Murdok grabbed his arm as he walked by. “I should not be. This is a slaver ship and I am a slave now. What are you doing here? What is your clearance?”

The man tried to hide his initial fear. “Wh-what? We’re not part of the slavers! We took over the ship. Didn’t you feel it stop?”

Murdok hadn’t.

The man, who Murdok now identified as a Hylian male about the same size as Lola, stared at Murdok further. “By the Goddesses, I ain’t never seen one of you in a slave ship. Come to think of it, I ain’t never seen one up close.” He continued to examine Murdok. “Or witou’ ‘is armor. What did you do?”

Murdok didn’t answer, simply let the man go.

The Hylian shrugged, hiding building fear in nonchalance. “Eh. As long as you don’t turn all of us in, I figure you’re just like the rest of us. Free. You can start over now.”

Yes. Start over. Free. Murdok watched the man move toward remaining slaves. Yes, Murdok could put all of that terrible, terrible past behind him. He could be free. The shackles that held him down, the armor that was a prison, the way of life that was a death sentence, all of that was behind him. Murdok could start over.

The Hylian was speaking now. Most of the slaves had gathered around him, listening. Murdok picked up a ratty bandana he found on the ground and tied it around his head. It wouldn’t be much of a disguise, but at least it would cover his ears and perhaps someone would confuse his silhouette for that of a Hylian. A really large Hylian. With black skin. Murdok pushed the thought away and stood next to an equally large (if not shorter) creature that looked to be made of rock. He didn’t question it.

“...And that’s why we’re headed to the lower sections of the junk,” the Hylian was saying. “If we can get down there and steal one of the smaller ships, we can get off this damn slave barge. Now, do you guys have any weapons that you can use?”

Murdok felt his leadership training kick in and stepped into the circle that had formed before he knew what he was doing. “Cruel as they may be, the slavers aren’t dumb,” (He didn’t add “I should know, I served on one for a while.” He readjusted his bandana. It felt weird to have his ears tucked in like that.) “They took all our equipment. I suspect it’s gone for good.”

Murmurs of dissent, acknowledgement, and dismay rippled through the crowd. Murdok was pleased to find that no one had visibly recoiled at his statement. Or presence.

A Bokoblin (possibly the one who was so loud earlier?) spat on the ground in disgust. As he did, he saw a small Miniblin with its trident. “HEY!” He yelled. “Where’d that little gremlin get that fork?”


	2. Theif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdok escapes.

Murdok followed the accusatory finger of the Bokoblin to a Miniblin in the shadows.  It had its annoying little trident in its grubby little hand and was doing its little dance.  Murdok quelled the urge to clear the distance in three strides and smash the wretch into the wall.  A few of the freed slaves moved past him as he entertained the fantasy, inspecting the table in the room.

“It’s got my gear!”

And thus the floodgates opened, to the protest of the Hylian man.  Murdok watched him fidget as anxiety mounted.  The sounds of scuffle could be heard past the door.  The freed slaves were milling about the gear, arguing over what belonged to who, all ignoring their savior.

“Oh, we don’ have _time_ for this,” the man muttered to himself nervously.  He began to move towards the table to move the crowd out, but a large black-furred hand stopped him.

“Allow me,” Murdok said.  “It is the least I can do.”

Before the Hylian could protest, Murdok roared.  All motion and sound stopped.  The slaves turned to face Murdok, who gestured to the (equally horrified) Hyian man.  “This man has freed us and most likely has a plan for escape.  You will follow him and do as he says without question.”  He paused to look at the scared eyes looking back at him.  He was used to this.  “Understood?”

A wave of mutters shivered through the slaves.

Murdok turned to the Hylian.  “Go.  I will take up the rear.”

The man stared up at the Darknut.  “U-uh, yeah, yeah, okay. Th-thanks.”  He gestured with his hand towards the group of slaves.  “Okay, let’s move out!  Try to keep up!”  And he bolted out the door.  The freed slaves followed in an orderly fashion, mostly in silence, under the stern gaze of the Darknut.  As the last of them rounded the doorframe, Murdok spied something left on the table.  It wasn’t the jagged sword he was so used to, but upon closer inspection it was roughly the same size and weight; it would do in a pinch.  He stuffed the large wrench into the sash he had at his waist and followed the last tail disappearing around the junk’s hallway.

Murdok easily caught up and followed the group of slaves as they wound their way down to the junk’s lower decks.  He slammed some doors closed as they ran by and used what he could to bar the doors he knew reinforcements would be coming through.

Down in the lower decks, the Hylian man began piling slaves into the dinghies and sending them off with simple instructions: “we’ve got a ship just off the port side!  You can’t miss ‘er, just head straight for ‘er and me mates’ll bring you board!”  A few were already rowing out to the ship not far off.  As he loaded the last dinghy, the Hylian furiously gestured for Murdok to climb aboard, as well.  “We haven’t got all day, come on!”

Murdok hesitated, but only for a moment.  He was given an order and he followed it well.  The dinghy sloshed as he pushed it off.  He grabbed two oars and began helping the escape with strong strokes before he really realized what was even happening.

The last door Murdok had haphazardly blocked burst open and a small company of Bokoblins spilled out.  They were shoved aside by a large form with pointed ears as it strode to the edge of the mobile pier.  Murdok locked eyes and stopped his rowing rhythm.

Desde returned the stare.  She had protested when Murdok was jailed, but she was overruled and that was the end of that.  Now she saw him not only escaping, but as an accomplice in theft.  The slaves and the lifeboats were slowly disappearing to a _pirate_ ship that came out of the reefs and he was just sitting there?

Murdok gripped his oars, ignoring the words of the Hylian and the Bokoblin behind him.

“By the Goddesses, it’s _another_ one!  Another Darknut!  It’ll get us for sure!”

“No,” Murdok muttered, not breaking eye contact.  “She won’t.”  With renewed vigor, he pulled the oars through the water, propelling the boat away from Desde, away from the junk, away from his past.

Desde roared in frustration as the closest thing she had to a friend burnt his last bridge to redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Darknuts have very little sexual dimorphism, if any at all. (This is also assuming that they even have sexes, which, given their nature, is not likely to me.) They go *poof* in a cloud of smoke, the're probably just a gathering of malicious energy formed by Ganon. BUT THIS FANFICTION is operating in the assumption / AU where the enemies in "Wind Waker" are fully realized biological organisms, so I do what I want
> 
> Also no, Desde is not going to be a romantic love interest because that is lame and boring  
> also they're Darknuts do they even do that?  
> I'm going with no and I'm writing this dumb fanfiction so jog on


End file.
